Origins
by Yumeshojo
Summary: Ganondorf, the tyrant king. Cruel, merciless, and hated. What could twist a person so much that they would turn into such a person? His birth, his childhood, and his downfall. Mild Ganondorf X Nabooru and Ganondorf X Zelda
1. A Twisted Love

Part one in a planned trilogy of a certain someone's life. A rather sad story, I warn you, with no happy ending (which I don't like to do very often, but that's just the way it is here). I hope you enjoy it none the less. It was heartbreaking to write!

**Disclaimer: I doth dis/the claiming of this/a story I wrote/tho characters I don't/and thus I say/to end this way/DON'T BE RETARDED, I OBLIVIOUSLY DON'T OWN ANYTHING! *runs away sobbing at your insensitivity***

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"Hey, hot stuff. Enjoying another boring night?"

A Hylian soldier, clad in full armor and standing ramrod strait, let his eyes turn to the voice that had called him. Nothing unusual for this guard, who stood on the Hyrule side of the Gerudo Valley bridge, making sure none of those thieving women decided to go on a raid in his homeland. And the usual greeting from the Gerudo night guard, a woman robed in white with short red hair.

Having both just come on their shifts, they were really the only company each other had, and had thus become well aquainted over the long nights in the valley. So much so that the woman had recently taken to teasing him – something he knew the other Gerudo women frowned upon.

"Good evening, Nabanyu." He gave his head a tilt of acknowldgement – the only time he really ever budged all through the night.

"And a good evening to you, too, Hilder." She gave a smile and a wave, seemingly all in good nature. Hilder remembered the days when he had first gotten his job as the Gerudo Valley guard, and when he'd first laid eyes on Nabanyu in the fiery evening light. She stood tall and proud – much like he did – with a stern face and a serious attitude.

It had taken a long time for him to get her to open up, and he couldn't even recall why he'd tried. Taking his job overly seriously himself, he would never have engaged in idle talk so casually before – or even now. But when Nabanyu had spoke up to challenge and mock him, he'd always ended up bickering back at her. Eventually, the banter had turned into an easy comradory.

Every since Hilder had conceded his admiration for her and her skills, and that she was such a strong and independent women, she had taken to relaxing around him. When she'd realized she had nothing to prove to him, and realized that she also respected him and didn't think him scum, like most all other men, she had begun to smile.

She had a beautiful smile. Eyes even more so. A sparkling green against her tan skin, framed by blazing hair and made to look deep and penetrating by the length of her nose. To Hilder, there was no women in all of Hyrule more radiant.

_But she's a thief and a warrior, having sworn off men and country. She will never be mine. _He couldn't help but let his eyes slide shut at this thought – one he'd had many times before. To a Gerudo, having a husband was equal to being 'owned' or being 'property,' and there was nothing Hilder could do to convince her otherwise. Besides, she was well aware that, while men and women held equal statues in Hyrule, it was still the men who took the most power in the end.

_But was that not also true for her own people? _Hilder was rather annoyed at the contradiction. While Gerudo women only took 'mates' and never husbands, their features were dominant traits when paired with Hylian men, and almost always a daughter was born with perfect Gerudo looks. But if a man was born to the women, he was immediately exalted. Raised up to be their leader, they would all obey him. _Isn't that the definition of hypocrisy? To demean my culture for the exalted status of men, and yet they practically worship any man born to their dominantly female population?_

It was when Hilder opened his eyes that he realized Nabanyu was knelt down in front of the gate, in prayer. His eyes widened in momentary shock, for it wasn't often that Nabanyu would pray in front of him to her Goddess of the Sand. Prayer was a private, personal thing to the Gerudo. What ever she was praying about, it must have been extremely important for her to beseech the Goddess in his presence.

He waited in silence until Nabanyu opened her eyes. She sighed – something very uncharacteristic of her – and then stood, face set. Her eyes were on him. And she stepped forward – leaving her post.

Without thinking about it, Hilder turned to her and relaxed his guard in worry. "Nabanyu? Is everything alright?"

She smiled to him, but it wasn't a full smile, and she continued until she stood beside him. Then she gazed to the stars, wrapping her arms behind her back. "The sky is clear tonight. And beautiful, as always. The darkness against the red of the stone is truly spectacular, don't you think?"

Hilder nodded, still rather confused.

"The season for my people to choose a mate is approaching."

Hilder heard more than felt his hand tighten around his spear. Nabanyu seemed to hear it, too, because she glanced to his weapon and then to his face. Then she smiled. "Why so alarmed, Mr. Soldier?"

Hilder scowled. "I mean no disrespect, but I believe your people take this topic too lightly."

"On the contrary," Nabanyu shook her head. "We pray for guidance from the Goddess very hard, for many weeks before we make a selection. Taking a mate and bringing forth another generation into the Gerudo Tribe is a very serious event."

"That's not what I meant. In my country, selecting a mate isn't just for a season – it's for _life_."

Nabanyu looked startled at this. "_Life_? You go to the same mate every child-baring season?"

Hilder shook his head. "No. We keep the same mate at all times – take them into our households, live together every day, and pledge our love to last to death and beyond."

Now Nabanyu was really shocked. "That seems so drastic!"

"Not if you love that person." Hilder locked eyes with Nabanyu, letting his dead serious tone flow into her. "Then forever doesn't seem long enough. No, especially not just speaking together at night alone."

Nabanyu's eyes darted from one of Hilder's to the other, questioning. Then it dawned on her. "You are attracted to me."

"To put it lightly." Hilder replied, raising his free hand to stroke her cheek. She seemed surprised at the gesture. "The feelings I have for you are much stronger than that."

"So much so...that you would chose me as your mate? For 'forever,' as your people do?"

Hilder spread his fingers out and took her chin in his hands, pulling her face up so that she was forced to meet his eyes. "Yes."

"I have been praying to the Goddess about this very thing!" She exclaimed. "I had chosen you for my mate, and was going to ask you tonight!"

"I'm afraid that is not enough for me, Nabanyu. I would have you for my wife, or not at all."

As the finality of his harsh words sunk in, Nabanyu felt the chill of the night air, which she had grown up in and had never felt cold in before.

"I am rejecting your offer to have me as your mate." Hilder pronounced, still holding Nabanyu in front of himself. "But I'm offering you much more. I'm offering you everything. I'm asking you to marry me, Nabanyu. Not to be owned by me, not to be my property – but to be my spouse. My equal, my life, my everything. Always."

"That...That's too extreme!" Nabanyu cried, shaking her head and braking free from Hilder's grasp. She backed up, looking angry and afraid at the same time. And in her eyes, Hilder only looked sad. "How can you expect me to answer that? To throw away my life – my people – for you! And don't say I wouldn't be, because the Gerudo Tribe wouldn't have me if I pledge myself to you!"

"Then I am not worth it to you." It wasn't a question, and Hilder's eyes hardened. "You do not feel as I do. It's that simple. Tomorrow I will request a new post."

"What?!" Nabanyu immediately began to protest. "A new post? Why? If you care so strongly for me, as you say you do, then shouldn't it be enough to be my mate for only a season and to see me just like this each night? I think you are the one who is a liar – you don't feel as strongly as I do! I'm content to have you like this. You – you're just being selfish, trying to own me!"

The more Nabanyu yelled, the more she saw the anger in Hilder's eyes grow, until, finally, it spilled over. He grabbed her by the shoulders and pulled her to him, pressing their lips together with a power that hurt Nabanyu. And when he released her lips, he held her body so close she couldn't budge. And she heard the fire in his voice when he spoke again.

"I'm the one who's selfish? Fine then, we'll have it your way. I will be your mate, Nabanyu. Just once and only once. And then, just as the Gerudo always do, you will never see me again. Will you be happy with that?"

Nabanyu struggled against Hilder's chest, trying to break free. And it was only when he released her that she flew back, far from him. "M-maybe I don't want you for a mate anymore!"

But just looking across the hard red earth at him, she knew that wasn't true. As angry and upset as she was, she also felt the overwhelming urge to do something – anything – to make the pain in Hilder's eyes disappear. He knew it, too.

And when the time came, Nabanyu chose Hilder for her mate. He accepted. And when the deed was done, Hilder looked strait into Nabanyu's eyes and said three powerful words to her that broke her heart: "I love you."

He was restationed, just as he said he would be. And Nabanyu was pregnant.

To her credit, she regretted it all. She even ran away once, deciding that it would be better to be his mate forever – his _wife_ – and raise the child in Hyrule than in the Gerudo Valley. She realized she loved him, too, and was willing to give up everything for him.

But it was too late by then. Civil war had broken out in Hyrule. And Hilder was dead – a body broken on the fields of battle.

As Nabanyu delivered her baby on the night of the harvest moon at the hands of the Gerudo maids, she stared up at the sky and cried out to the Goddess of the sand. And with her dying breath, she cursed the world: "ON ALL OF HYRULE, THE BITTER PEOPLE WHO FOUGHT AMONGST THEMSELVES AND KILLED MY LOVE! ON ALL OF MY OWN PEOPLE, WHO FOSTERED WITHIN ME A HATRED OF WHAT IT WAS MY HEART TRULY DESIRED! ON THE VERY CHILD IN MY WOMB, AS IT ENTERS THIS WORLD, FOR BEING CONCEIVED UNDER SUCH VILE CIRCUMSTANCES! MAY THE GODDESS OF THE SAND RUIN ALL YOUR LIVES, AND DESTROY YOUR DREAMS AS MINE WERE SLAIN! MAY MY SPIRIT NOT HAVE REST NOR SEE THE SIGHT OF MY LOVER'S WELCOME UNTIL ALL OF YOU FACE MY WRATH AND FEEL MY SORROW AND RAGE! ALL OF YOU, SUFFER! SUFFER!"

That night, to a dying and bitter women, a boy was born within the Gerudo Tribe with the umbilical cord wrapped around his neck, as if to kill him as his mother had desired. With his mother silent in death, the twins Twinrova gazed at the boy as the air flowed into his lungs for the first time, his skin an ugly shade of green from the lack of air, and with vicious smiles pronounced his name Ganondorf.


	2. A Twisted Life

**Wow, this took forever -_- Disclaimer disclaimer disclaimer! Do not own, blah blah blah Part three will probably take forever and half just like this one did. Gr.**

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He slid out of the room while Third was distracted (which was easy to do, he noted for future reference) and made his way as quickly and quietly as he could through the chambers. He wasn't going to last much longer, so he needed to hurry.

He found a small alcove tucked away and, making sure no one else was around, slid into it, turning his back to the entrance and doubling over. Head between his knees, he finally allowed the cough that had been building in his lungs to wretch out, burning his throat and wracking his chest. He covered his mouth with his hands as best he could to stifle the sound, and then when it was finished quickly pulled them away to check.

No blood. That was good, a good sign. But the fact that he was coughing again, in and of itself, was not.

Growling a bit to himself, the boy stood and turned – only to find himself face to face with Koume.

"I found him, sister! And he's _coughing_ again!" She spat the word in her falsely sweet tone, like he had done something vile in her presence. He felt himself stiffen.

"Again, sister?" Came Kotake's voice, and soon enough she rounded the corner, so that the ugly old women had young Ganondorf cramped into his small space, trying to stand tall but knowing he was in trouble. "I thought we'd beaten that nasty habit out of him."

"As had I, but it seems," Koume reached forward and, with a long, green finger, lifted Ganondorf's chin. "That we must not have beaten him hard enough. What have we taught you, child?"

"Sickness is weakness." Ganondorf replied coldly, slapping away Koume's hand. "And a king _cannot _be weak."

"Very good, my prince." Kotake squealed.

"Very good, indeed." Koume agreed, stepping back to allow Ganondorf through.

"But you've been a bad boy, young prince."

"Very bad, indeed."

"And as the prince of the Gerudo, bad is a daily part of my life," he retorted, not so much as looking their way as he walked off. "You'd best get used to it, ladies, or you won't live much longer."

"Sassy little thing, aren't you?" Kotake, astride her broom, cut off his stride.

"I do recall that we, as prophetesses of the great Goddess of the Sand, deserve more respect than this." Koume cooed from behind.

"Not to mention raising you," Kotake's voice darkened slight, and Koume's mirrored it as her hand grasped Ganondorf's shoulder. "So you should be careful how you address us, _your highness_."

The touch of the hag made his skin crawl, and what he really wanted to do – what he would have done to _anyone_ else – was give her a swift kick in the gut. But they were right, the prunes. He couldn't swat them away like other insignificant lives.

So, instead, he merely removed her hand by picking up her fingers and then dropping them, like he would a dirty garment. "I am well aware of your limited usefulness, Twinrova. And I do not believe it extends to my behavior any further. I am of age."

The sister's looked immediately gleeful (which, in turn, further sickened Ganondorf, who worried he might have another coughing fit coming on). _Maybe I'm allergic to the hideous things_, he mused, trying (and failing) not to picture the idea the sisters held on how to 'cure' his little problem. His left leg still didn't move quite right.

"But that is why we have sought you out, my prince!" Koume squealed, flying around to hover beside Kotake.

"We have a gift for you, to celebrate!"

Ganondorf narrowed his eyes further (which was a feet, he was sure, as he never seemed to open them fully while these two bats were around). "And?"

Clapping in delight, they motioned for him to follow, which he did (though reluctantly). And to say he was shocked when they presented his "present" was an understatement. He stood there, staring, for a moment before he got control of himself.

She was beautiful, with that he was pleased. Proud, prominent Gerudo features, evident even at such a young age. Dressed in pink and white, colors reserved for those who were above the usual work of the thieving people, usually for priestesses (though Twinrova preferred to flaunt their elements, as well as black. He himself favored darker tones). She was small, though, and was trembling under the fleeting touches of the sisters, though she was trying to stand tall. Or maybe she was just trying to pull her appendages as close to herself as possible, to stay out of reach?

Ganondorf glanced to the old ones. "_This_ is your offering?"

"Of course, my prince!" Koume nodded enthusiastically.

"She's showing early signs of the Goddess' favor," Kotake agreed. "Very promising!"

"And pretty, isn't she? The little thing..."

Ganondorf, while still young, wasn't naive. He knew what they were getting at. "You judge her fit for my bride?"

The girl jumped slightly, obviously having not put things together until he said it. She was staring at him with a new awe, and not as much fear as before. Curiosity?

"Her name is Nabooru, my prince."

"She will serve you well."

"Do you approve, highness?"

"Leave us." He snapped. If he was to judge this girl, he would do it without the meddling witches around. "You will have my review within the day."

Dismissed, Twinrova exchanged glances, nodded, and cackled as they flew off. "Enjoy, highness!"

Nabooru visibly shivered at their tone, but still stood firm and didn't relax in the slightest now that she was alone with her prince – and, apparently, her fiance. She bowed slightly, though, as was proper.

Ganondorf watched her silently, making a slow circle around her to both evaluate her and unnerve her. He needed a strong woman, after all. This girl, even younger than he, hardly seemed ready to stand by his side, not with what the future had in store for him.

_I am a King, _he frowned, _I need a queen. And this girl...she is hardly that. Maybe with training, yes, but..._

Her head turned to watch him, her eyes solid and fierce. Ganondorf was willing to admit he liked the pride and potential he saw. But there was something nagging at him, something that made him wary, made him think that this – a relationship with this girl – would not bode well for him.

"Why are you green?" She asked suddenly, breaking his thoughts.

Instantly, he bristled.

_"Even before you were born, your mother tried to kill you." _He heard Koume and Kotake's voices wheeze, searing him. _"She choose death over raising you."_

_"Heartbroken by a Hylian man."_

_"A soldier."_

_"Better never to love than to be so foolish."_

_"She could have been a queen."_

_"Better to live than to become as nothing."_

_"Even the Goddess will turn her soul away."_

_"But we have you, prince."_

_"We have you, a king!"_

_"But look what she's done to you!"_

_"That wretched woman, cursing the child she was blessed to have."_

_"Should have been honored!"_

_"Should have been proud!"_

_"Unworthy, she was, to bear you, prince!"_

_"Unworthy, and corrupted, by a weakness called love!"_

_"Love for a Hylian, who broke her heart."_

_"Love for your father, who never loved you!"_

Ganondorf lashed out, filled with anger, grief, and hate, and struck Nabooru across the face. She was sent sailing sideways onto the dusty stone floor, crying out in pain.

"You will not speak out of turn, girl." He spat at her, feeling the rage bubble up and embracing it as power, just as he was taught. "You will show respect for your prince, your future king, your better."

"I just asked a simple question!" She snapped right back from her place on the floor, having picked herself up and rolled over, so that she was staring up at him. Her lip was bleeding. "You didn't have to hit me!"

He snarled. "I will not repeat myself! You will address me as 'my prince' or 'highness,' or not at all!"

"Meanie." She whined, sticking her tongue out at him. "You're just mad because the uglies pester you, I bet. Hey, do you want to go play?"

Suddenly, she was all cheer, leaning forward on her knees and smiling, excited at the idea. "I know a great way to sneak out of here! Or, or, there's lots of cool rooms around! I know where a lot of them are! Well, do you wanna, huh? I bet you'd love to get away from those old bats!"

It was a tempting offer, and despite the fact that she was _still_ not addressing him properly, he felt his anger tip a bit in favor of intrigue. While he'd normally have sworn up and down he'd take Twinrova over being disrespected, right now he knew he really did need some fresh air, or else he was going to start coughing again. He decided it was better to suffer _slight_ disrespect in favor of keeping face when it came to his health.

"Very well. Lead on."

Her face lit up with pleasure and mischief, and Ganondorf found he rather liked the combination on her pretty face. But then she reached up and grasped his hand, pulling him forward behind her. "This way, come on!"

She was giggling happily as she went, not seeming to notice at all the shock she'd sent through her future king. Koume and Kotake used to hold his hands all the time when he was younger, keeping him between them and keeping him under control. He'd resented it as much as the beatings. But with this girl's hand, tailing behind Nabooru's glowing grin, he didn't feel the same shame and fear he had with the hags. Her hand felt warm, like the desert sand.

When he finally saw Twinrova again later that evening, he grudgingly expressed his approval of their gift. Yes, he'd keep this Nabooru for his wife. She had defiance in her eyes, but she'd submit to him, her better, eventually. He'd train her well, here in the temple, and bring her up to be a great woman, with the goddess' blessing. She was beautiful, she had fire, and she, to Ganondorf, was the embodiment of what the Gerudo women were. Yes, he approved.

What he didn't realize was that the beatings that had fostered a desire for power over his enemies in him would only strengthen the defiance in her. That his dreams of greatness and the expansion of Gerudo rule would clash with her protectiveness of her people and love of isolation. And the more he tried to show her the side of himself that Twinrova had told him was his best, the side that was powerful and merciless and grand, the farther away he pushed Nabooru and her set morals and pride. It was almost as though the harder he tried to bring her to his side, the more she drew away. And, as royalty, as the future king of the Gerudo, he would not – _could not_ – continue to act as though there was something he wanted that he couldn't have. He would not pursue her like some love struck child, he was a man, and he was her better, and she would submit or she would suffer, just like he had suffered if he didn't grow up as Koume and Kotake deemed appropriate.

And the twins did his will. No longer behaving as though they were higher than him, they were submissive and helpful, gleeful to put him on the throne. And his bride? Why, Nabooru's willfulness wasn't necessary. A little magic here, and little brainwashing there...why, her pretty face worked just fine on a curvaceous body that had no will of it's own.

Another present for the king.

Ganondorf looked on into the empty depths of what had once been Nabooru's sand-storm brown eyes and saw nothing but a pit of quicksand, spiraling down into nothing. Gone was her spunk, gone was her pride, gone was her fire, gone was her sweetness, and gone was her heart – gone was everything that made her _Nabooru_, and gone was what made Ganondorf interested in her in the firs place.

The girl who'd reached out and held his hand with the comfort of the desert's fire was as good as dead. Ganondorf had no interest in her shell.

What Twinrova did with her after he dismissed her, he didn't know, and didn't care. Instead, he buried himself in his ambitions, thinking only of his work and his rule and his revenge. Even though the pain of being rejected by parents he'd never known had tormented him as a child, the older he got, the more he forgot that this was why he hated Hylians so much. He forgot his father was of this race, had been a soldier, and had died protecting this land. All he remembered was he hated it, and at the same time, he wanted it. He wanted it to be his, wanted it under his rule, wanted to lord over it and own it and destroy those who lived in it.

And every time he stood before that accursed Hylian king and saw that little princess in her pink and white dress, standing tall and proud and as elegant as a child can be outside that window, with her large blue eyes with the storm knowledge inside them, he also say flashes of a sand-storm, raging wild somewhere in the back of his mind, somewhere far away and in his long-forgotten memories of old wants and fading dreams.


End file.
